


Sheepish is my Baseline

by Bear_shark



Series: WinterHawk Goobers [3]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Anal Sex, Briefly and from a non main character, Bucky uses a wheelchair, But like not detailed, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Deaf Clint Barton, Demolitions expert Clint, Embedded Images, Getting Together, Guidance counselor Bucky, Lots of biceps, Lucky is a good wingman, M/M, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, turns into a meet-ugly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-09 10:03:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18914737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bear_shark/pseuds/Bear_shark
Summary: For the prompt: I accidentally rolled over your dog's tail with my wheelchair, and now I'm so busy apologizing to the dog I don't even notice you standing there.In which Clint and Bucky have a meet-cute that turns into a meet-ugly and then gets cute again.





	Sheepish is my Baseline

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story a while ago and gave up on it, but then [@kat-atomic](https://kat-atomic.tumblr.com) gifted me with a beautiful work of Clint Barton art by the incredible Inflomora and I knew I had to give the story another go.
> 
> Thanks to [Inflomora](https://inflomora-art.tumblr.com) for the **beautiful art** , both the piece from kat and the image of Bucky, which I commissioned. They are at the end of the fic. I highly recommend her work!
> 
> Beta'd by the inimitable[ @kat-atomic](https://kat-atomic.tumblr.com) ([Parrannnah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parrannnah/pseuds/Parrannnah) on AO3) who is a wonderful friend and editor.
> 
> Finally, in this story, Bucky uses a wheelchair for mobility. This is not part of my lived experience, so if I messed something up, please let me know and I will change it immediately. Warning for some brief ableism from an original character.

Bucky’s ego was hurt, there was no other way to say it. He’d been the only one in his high school who used a wheelchair, so he hadn’t gotten opportunities to play basketball beyond shooting a few hoops. That wasn’t enough to prepare him for a wheelchair basketball league in New York, and the lesson was immediate and painful. Some of the guys had been playing for years, and Bucky felt clumsy and uncoordinated compared to them. They were encouraging, but he still felt like a noob.

After finishing his master’s in educational psychology, Bucky had taken a job in Indiana near his parents and sister. It was nice being close to them, but he hadn’t gotten the chance to travel much or live anywhere new. So when an opportunity for a job at a public school in New York City came up, Bucky knew he was ready for an adventure.

Or so he thought. For one thing, getting around the city in his wheelchair had been difficult. The bus drivers had been accommodating, but not all the streets had curb cuts, and New York drivers didn’t look where they were going. Navigating crosswalks in winter had been dicey, not to mention weaving through throngs of people on uneven sidewalks. To top it off, eight months in and he had only made one friend. And so, in moments like these, lonely and embarrassed, Bucky wondered if his grand New York adventure was worth it.

Bucky pressed the push plate to his apartment building and waited for the door to open. Just as he started to roll forward, a woman came from behind and cut him off. “I’m just going to go first because you know,” she said with a shrug.

Bucky did _not_ know. Where did this woman get off thinking she could just cut in front of him? He’d just come from sprinting up and down a basketball court, he wasn’t exactly slow in his chair.

He took three deep breaths, made his way into the building, and headed to the elevator. It was inconveniently placed in the narrow hall by the apartment mailboxes, and Bucky sometimes had to wait for other residents to get their mail before he could get through. Most of the time, people saw him coming and made room. Of course, because this was not Bucky’s day, the woman who had cut him off was leafing through her mail and blocking his path. Bucky cleared his throat, but she either didn’t hear him or was ignoring him.

Bucky rolled backward to wedge around her, only to be met with a yelp. He rolled forward quickly and turned to see an adorable one-eyed yellow lab staring mournfully at him.

“I’m so sorry!” Bucky exclaimed. “Are you okay?” He held his hand out, and the dog wagged her tail and licked his fingers. “I should have looked where I was going.” Apparently feeling the need to comfort him, the dog laid her head in Bucky’s lap. “Oh, you’re so sweet. I’m sorry, girl.”

A man behind the dog chuckled. “He’s had worse, trust me.”

“Oh,” Bucky said, mind stripped of all thought. The man was tall with muscular shoulders, a handsome grin, and a mop of dirty blond hair. Granted, he looked like someone had punched his face a few times, and he had a bandaid on his nose, but it was working for him.

“I’m Clint,” the man said and waved. “And my dog is Lucky. He’s male, but dogs aren’t dicks about gender the way humans are, so whatever.”

Beefy, sweet, progressive and with a cute dog? Bucky was ready to swoon.

“Bucky,” he said, certain he looked like the emoji with heart eyes.

The woman who had cut Bucky off was still taking her sweet time with her mail. Clint nodded toward her and spoke lowly. “I was going to jump in but.” He turned his head and gestured at his hearing aids. “I hate it when people assume I’m helpless. Plus, you had that whole sexy murder glare going on, so…”

“What?”  

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Clint looked confused. “About the sexy part or the murder glare? I mean, you had to know.” Clint waved at Bucky’s face and chest. “That you have a little somethin’ somethin’ going on. Right?”

“Are you hitting on me?” Bucky’s voice went up an octave without his permission. He knew his new haircut, tight on the sides with a little length on top, looked good, and he’d had more than one person squeeze his biceps appreciatively. Still, the flirting caught him off guard.  

Clint winced. “Was trying to. Guess it’s not going so well.”

“No!” Bucky said. Clint and Lucky both looked at him in surprise, their expressions eerily similar. “I mean, you’re doing great. I wasn’t expecting. Um. I ran over your dog’s tail.”

Clint squatted down and petted Lucky’s back. “Like I said, he’s had worse.” He spoke to Lucky. “You’re just taking one for the team so I can flirt with Bucky. Who’s a good wingman? You’re a good wingman. Yes, you are.”

Bucky was flabbergasted and more than a little endeared by Clint’s goofball charm. “We should hang out. I mean, get coffee or something,” Bucky said.

“Right now?” Clint said hopefully.

“Oh, well, I just came from a basketball game. I should shower first.”

“That’s why your chair is so badass!” Clint said. “I was trying to figure it out.”

Bucky blushed, feeling strangely proud. “It’s not my everyday one, but, yeah, I like it.”

“It’s awesome! Can you do tricks and dance and stuff in it?”

Bucky shook his head. “This one has a more forward center of gravity and angled wheels for speed and cornering. The ones for tricks are different.”

Clint ran his finger slowly along the matte black rim of one of Bucky’s wheels. Normally, Bucky would have hated that from someone he didn’t know well, but it felt comfortable, even intimate, coming from Clint. “I should watch you play,” Clint said, nodding his head decisively.

“Well, I’m terrible, so—”

“I could coach you.”

Bucky looked at him skeptically. “Are you good at basketball?”

“Nope. Just planning our second date.” Clint shrugged unrepentantly.

Bucky bit his lip unable to hide his pleasure. “You’re smooth.”

Leaning over until their faces were close, Clint said, “My friends would say I’m reckless, but things seem to work out.”

“Maybe you should come over tonight for dinner and a movie.”

“Maybe?” Clint said as he stood up.

“Definitely,” Bucky replied, growing braver by the minute. “We should order a pizza.”  

Clint’s grin was instant. “I love pizza. You got no idea. DiMaggio’s the best in town, but they don’t deliver. I mean, I like any pizza, but that one, yeah, that one’s the best. I could pick it up and bring it over.”

“Okay,” Bucky said, feeling impossibly fond. “That sounds great.”

The woman had finally cleared out of the hallway, and Clint accompanied Bucky to the elevator.

“So,” Bucky said, as he pressed the going up button. “What do you like to do?”

Clint scratched his head like Bucky had asked a difficult question. “A lot of random things, but I guess I’m lucky ‘cause I like my work.”

“Oh? What do you do?”

Clint raised his eyebrows meaningfully. “I blow shit up.” He backtracked. “Not, like without permission or anything. I’m a demolitions expert.” He pressed the elevator button again. “Do you have to wait this long every time?”

“Wait till you’re in it. It’s terrible.” He and Clint shared a commiserative smile. “Sounds like an awesome job. Did you have to go to school for it or is it—”

“It’s an apprenticeship thing and thank god. I don’t know how school was for you, but mine was the worst. You had to do whatever dumb shit the teachers wanted, sit still, it was like there was no room to breathe. And god forbid you don’t want to go to college, then the guidance counselor would just tell you what a loser you’ll be. It’s like, you don’t need to rub it in Patricia!” Clint huffed out a breath and glanced at Bucky. “Sorry, I get worked up. Uh, what do you do?”

Bucky’s tongue felt thick in his mouth, but the longer he waited to reply, the more awkward the moment became. “I work for a school.”

Clint winced. “As the cool shop teacher?”

Bucky held up his hands. “I’ve got all my fingers, so no.” When Clint didn’t laugh, Bucky continued, “I’m a guidance counselor.”

“Aw, no,” Clint mumbled, looking at the ceiling. His cool demeanor had faded and now he looked ready to disappear on the spot. “I mean, it’s cool. You’re probably. You know, you’re probably good at it.”

“I try to be,” Bucky said. “I’m sorry that—”

“No big deal,” Clint said. “It is what it is. I’m sorry I insulted your work and schools and you know everything that is important to you…” He jumped when the elevator arrived at his floor and practically bounded out. Lucky looked reproachfully at his owner but followed him, anyway.

“Do you want my—”

“See you later, Bucky,” Clint said, shoulders hunched. “Nice to meet you.”

Bucky wanted to ask about the pizza date they had planned, but Clint seemed to have rescinded that invitation. “Nice to meet you, too,” he replied, heart sinking into the floor.  

——-

“He just left!” Steve exclaimed, his tiny body near vibrating with fury. “Give me his address. I’ll go tell him what I think of that.”

“Whoa. Damn, Stevie. It’s not that big of a deal,” Bucky said. “I get it. A lot of people had bad experiences in school, and my being a guidance counselor reminded him of that.”

“That’s no excuse,” Steve said primly. “He was incredibly rude.”

Bucky tried not to roll his eyes. Steve was a 5’5” tiny ball of righteous fury and extremely protective of the people he cared about. He was the art teacher at Bucky’s school, and his only real friend so far. Every week, Steve and his husband Sam hosted a dinner party, and Bucky was in the habit of coming over early to help prepare.

“How’s Sam?”

Steve pointed his knife at Bucky faux seriously. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re changing the subject. Here.” He handed Bucky a cucumber and two carrots. “At least make yourself useful if you’re going to ignore me.” They both set to work, and Steve said, “Sam’s great, by the way. Thanks for asking. Might get a promotion at the VA, which would help because my art teacher salary alone would have us on food stamps.”

Bucky liked Sam, but more than anything, he liked Steve and Sam together. They complimented each other so well, it made their love look like an effortless dance.

“You lucked out with him,” Bucky said, wistfulness creeping into his voice.

“Yeah,” Steve said, a blush coloring his cheeks. He turned earnest. “But, you should know, he’s not perfect or anything. He spends all his energy taking care of other people and forgets to take care of himself.”

Bucky busied himself with chopping, not wanting to pry. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”

“I know.” Steve put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m just saying he’s imperfect, but he’s perfect for me. You’ll find that, okay?”

Bucky put his hand over Steve’s. Having only one friend wasn’t so bad when that friend was Steve Rogers.

—

Sam come home twenty minutes later carrying a bouquet of sunflowers for Steve.

“Oh, you’re the worst,” Steve said, even as he cradled the flowers close. “Always trying to beat me at husbandhood. Husbandness. You know what I mean.” He looked at Bucky. “Sam acts like he’s all nice, but really he’s competitive as shit.”

“Love you, too, snookums,” Sam said, kissing Steve’s cheek. He was tall and well muscled with a cute gap between his front teeth.

“Ugh,” Steve said, blushing and making a show of rubbing off his face. “Snookums? The worst.”

Sam laughed loud and hearty. “I admit to nothing.” He held out a fist and Bucky bumped it. “How’ve you been doing, man?”

“Good. I—”

Steve butted in, squeezing the stalks of the flowers tight. “Someone was an asshole to him, and—”

“Now you’re mad.” Sam rescued the flowers from Steve’s hand and pulled a vase down from the cupboard.

“It’s fine. I just—”

“It’s not fine,” Steve said. “If I meet this guy, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”

Sam left the vase of flowers on the counter and wrapped an arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Well, it’s a good thing you’ll never meet the guy then.”

Steve looked unconvinced but cuddled closer into his husband’s embrace.

Bucky mouthed “perfect” to Steve, and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, Bucky,” Steve said.

“Yeah, shut up,” Sam said.

“You don’t even know what I’m mad at him about.” Steve pouted.

Sam leaned down and nuzzled at Steve’s cheek. “I know, baby. I side with you no matter what.”

Bucky was happy for Steve but his heart ached a little in longing for his own love.

“How’s guidance counseling going?” Sam asked once Steve left to put the lasagne into the oven and mix cream for dessert.

“Not too bad,” Bucky replied. “The extracurricular exercise club before class has helped students concentrate better. I’m trying to talk Fury into letting kids take part as a replacement for detention.”

Sam nodded, considering. “Do you think he’ll go for it?”

Bucky grimaced. “I’m not sure.” Fury was a great boss, but he had a stern demeanor that made all the students stand up straight when he passed them in the hallway.

“Scared of the principal?” Sam teased. “He’s a big marshmallow once you get to know him. You have a great plan, I’m sure he’ll go for it.”

Bucky smiled softly. Maybe he had made a second friend in New York without realizing it. “You still on board for career day?”

Sam’s answering grin was huge. “Hell yeah, I am. I’ve got the whole presentation figured out. Working at the VA may not be that glamorous, but I bet I can get some kids excited.”

Steve brought them both a bottle of beer. “I’m sure you’ll do swell, too.”

Sam leaned over close to Bucky. “He talks like he’s from the ’40s when he’s excited or horny.”

Bucky made a fake gagging noise and rolled out of the kitchen. “TMI, Wilson.”

—

While they were setting the table, Steve’s phone chimed. “Natasha will be late. She says she’s getting her friend to wear adult clothes, and it’s taking longer than expected.” Steve shrugged and looked at the other men. “Natasha calls him a ‘lovable train wreck,’ whatever that means.”

Bucky suspected a little editorializing on Steve’s part. It didn’t seem like Natasha to use the word “lovable” to describe anyone but her grumpy black cat. She and Steve met in college and had remained friends for years. Bucky had met her a few times, and he liked her despite her being terrifying.   

The three men went to the living room to chat while they waited for the remaining guests. Twenty minutes later, Natasha strolled into the apartment without knocking, dragging a frowning Clint behind her. He had a few more band-aids on his knuckles and face, but it only made him look hotter.

Bucky couldn’t fault Natasha on her outfit choice for him. The tight black v-neck showed off Clint’s strong shoulders and trim waist, in a way that made Bucky’s mouth water. Natasha’s eyes landed on Bucky, and he could tell from her devious smirk she had caught him staring.

“Boys, this is Clint. Clint this is Steve, Bucky, and Sam.”

Clint recognized Bucky and looked ready to run away again, but Natasha had a hand on his back, no doubt digging in her nails a little. Bucky felt bad for him, that must hurt.

“Nice to see you again, Clint,” Bucky said, trying to sound cheerful. “How’s Lucky?”

Steve immediately made the connection and pointed at Clint accusingly. “This is the guy?”

Bucky sent Steve _a look_ because now Clint would know he had talked about him. Clint shot Bucky a brief hopeful smile before seeing how angry Steve looked. His eyes widened in alarm.

“Be nice, Steve,” Bucky murmured.

Sam’s laugh was warm and broke the tension in the room. “Man, I don’t what’s going on here.” He held his hand out for Clint to shake. “But any friend of Natasha’s is a friend of mine.”

Sam ushered Clint and Natasha towards the dining room, despite Steve’s sputtering protest. When Sam returned, he and Steve had a silent argument, and Bucky felt a pang of guilt about causing trouble. Finally, Steve’s face softened, and Sam kissed his husband’s temple.

Sam whispered to Bucky. “If he’s an asshole, we’ll kick him out.”

Bucky wanted to protest. Clint wasn’t a bad guy, it was just a misunderstanding. But at that moment, with his (two!) friends telling him they had his back, Bucky couldn’t feel anything but happiness.

—

Everyone settled into their places at the table. Bucky and Clint ended up next to each other, and he was sure it was Natasha’s doing.

When Bucky smiled at him, Clint seemed to relax a little. “Where’s your fancy wheelchair?”

Bucky had elected to use his day-to-day chair for the evening. “That one is just for basketball. Some people use them all the time, but I’m more comfortable in this one.”

“We should play basketball sometime,” Steve interjected.

Sam laughed loudly earning a half-hearted glare from his husband. “You know full well your asthmatic ass doesn’t do sports.”

“I play sports just fine,” Steve protested. “I just need inhaler breaks.”

“F _requent_ inhaler breaks,” Sam told the table, and Steve swatted at him.

“I’d love to play sometime, Steve. I just joined a wheelchair league and I’m way out of my depth.”

“We’ll have to go to one of your games sometime,” Natasha said.

Clint nodded excitedly. “That’s what I said!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky caught Steve scrunching his nose. Apparently, he hadn’t quite forgiven Clint yet. It was like having an angry, overprotective chihuahua for a friend.

“So, you mentioned that you and Clint have met already,” Natasha said to Bucky in faux innocent tones. “I heard some woman was being rude.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “She cut me off and then blocked the hallway.”

“You should have seen his pissed off face,” Clint gushed. “I mean, if looks could kill…” He noticed Steve’s angry expression and tilted his head as if trying to figure out a puzzle. “Sort of like that. But you’ve got more of a ‘dad’s upset you missed curfew’ look. Bucky’s was straight up murder. It was beautiful.”

“Well, how come—” Steve halted when Sam squeezed his hand. They held another silent conversation until Steve’s shoulders relaxed.

“Let me open up some wine,” Sam said, smiling at his guests.

“How come you ditched Bucky?” Steve said, scowl returning. Sam squawked in surprise, and Steve shrugged. “You knew I was like this when you married me.”

“I’m not complaining,” Sam said, exasperation and fondness warring in his tone. “All I’m saying is maybe we shouldn’t interrogate our guests over dinner.”

“And I say—”

“I freaked out,” Clint interrupted. “School was shitty for me, and I…” He cleared his throat. “I felt like the loser all my teachers said I would be.”

Steve seemed mollified by this, but only just. “That’s fair, but you’re on thin ice. No more mess ups.”

Clint hunched over. “I wouldn’t want my friends to date me either. I destroy everything I touch.”

Steve had the good sense to look cowed, and the whole table was quiet until Bucky snorted. “Wait. Was that a joke about you being a demolitions expert?”

Clint grinned and dodged the roll Steve threw at him. “Did you like it?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, smiling in spite of himself. “Yeah, yeah. You’re cute. Don’t let it go to your head.”

After that hurdle was cleared, the conversation flowed from one topic to the next, eventually landing on career day.

“It’s the first one the school has ever had,” Steve said proudly. “A lot of these kids haven’t been exposed to many options for what they could do with their lives, and Bucky has put together this whole day for them to meet people and get excited about their futures.”

“Sounds great,” Clint said with a smirk, followed by a yelp as he rubbed his shin and glared at Natasha.

“Don’t knock career day,” Sam responded playfully, but there was an edge to his words. Okay, maybe both of his friends were overprotective. “I’m presenting, so it will be awesome.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Really, Wilson, helping veterans and impressionable youths? You‘re too perfect.”

Steve groaned, throwing his napkin at Natasha. “Not you, too! Don’t say that! It’ll go to his head, and he’ll be insufferable for a week.”

Sam popped a bite of bread into his mouth and grinned at Steve.

“You know,” Natasha said, deceptively casual. “If you need more people, I’m sure someone from my company would be willing to help. In fact,” she turned to Clint, “you have some free time, don’t you?”

Clint scowled at Natasha before giving Bucky an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, man. I think it’s cool what you’re doing, but I can’t tell a bunch of kids, ‘Don’t do drugs and go to college!’”

Bucky choked mid-bite in laughter. “Maybe don’t talk about drugs at all. And college isn’t necessary for everyone. There’s actually a shortage of trade labor in the US right now. I’ve got people from all kinds of different professions coming in.”

“That’s cool. My school wasn’t like that at all. They made it seem like only dumb kids didn’t go to college.”

“Your school sounds terrible.”

Bucky didn’t realize he and Clint had been staring at one another until Natasha cut in. “So it’s decided. Clint, just let me know what you and Bucky plan for your presentation, so I can make sure our liability insurance covers it.”

——

Bucky was hoping for a chance to speak with Clint alone after dinner. The opportunity arrived when Natasha insisted on helping Steve and Sam with dishes and encouraged (or in Clint’s case pushed) the two of them into the living room.

Clint plopped down on the couch and chuckled nervously. “So, fancy meeting you here.”

Bucky huffed a laugh. “I feel like I should apologize for Steve.”

“Nah. It’s good to have someone who has your back, unlike Natasha,” he began yelling, “WHO WOULD SELL ME TO THE WOLVES.”

“Love you, too,” Natasha called back.

Clint reached toward Bucky, thought better of it, and crossed his arms. “I’m sorry I was a tool and ditched you.”

“Thanks. It hurt my feelings, but I understand. School can be—”

“No excuses,” Clint said. “I was a tool.”

Bucky wheeled closer and put a hand on Clint’s shoulder. Their eyes met and Bucky said, “You are much, much too old to say tool anymore.”

Clint’s response was immediate. He pulled back, letting Bucky’s arm drop down. “Tool is perfect for all ages. You’re never too old for… See, now, that’s just ageist.”

Once their laughter died, Clint said, “I really am sorry. I was looking forward to our date.”

Bucky blushed, for all his fancy guidance counselor training he was sometimes more comfortable with teasing than sincerity. “I could be convinced to give you a second chance.”

“Yeah?” Clint licked his lips and leaned in close. “I can be _really_ convincing.”

Bucky put a hand over Clint’s mouth. “If career day goes well, I’ll _consider_ a date with you.”

Clint licked Bucky’s hand, and Bucky yelped and wiped the saliva off on Clint’s shirt.

“You’re a tease and a sassy little shit,” Clint said. “Does everyone know this about you?” He called out to the kitchen, “Steve, did you know that Bucky is a sassy little shit?”

“I still hate you,” Steve yelled back. “Don’t try to be cute.”

“He’ll come around,” Bucky whispered.

Clint shrugged. “That guy? He likes me already. He just doesn’t know it.”

——

Clint met Bucky at Beautiful Beans, a coffee shop near their apartment building, to plan his career day presentation.

“Thanks for not making me come to your office,” Clint said, shrugging off his jacket and sitting down heavily.

“Clint, they wouldn’t just let you into the building.”

He frowned. “Guess rules have changed. But _you_ know I’m trustworthy.”

“And cute,” Bucky supplied. “That wouldn’t get you on campus. I just wanted you to know.”

Clint stretched his arms overhead revealing a small strip of toned abs. “Oh? You think I’m hot?”

Bucky groaned. “Just promise you’ll use your powers for good instead of evil.”

Clint dropped his arms and flexed his biceps hard. “I don’t what you are talking about. I’m a benevolent dictator.”

Bucky paused, Clint’s face had turned red from holding the flex. “Now you just look constipated.”

Clint released his breath all in a rush and leaned forward on the table. “Glad to know that doesn’t work for you. I couldn’t hold it much longer.”

It was easy with Clint, the teasing and the jokes, and all too easy for Bucky to imagine doing this every day.

Clint cleared his throat, perhaps caught up in the same thoughts. “I believe I was promised a date if I came up with a good demonstration for career day.”

Bucky preened. It was nice to be pursued and to have Clint show interest in his work, and he found he liked making Clint work for it. “I didn’t agree to that.”

“What!? You said—”  

“I said if _career day_ went well then I would consider a date.”

“But that’s two months away,” Clint said with a pout. “I don’t wanna wait that long.”

Bucky felt a blush creeping up his neck. For all his teasing talk, he didn’t want to wait either. “We’ll see. Maybe. If you’re good.”

“I agree to those terms.” Clint pulled a notebook and flipped through to several diagrams. “Now, I know you said no explosions, but what if it was a small one?”

One hour later, Bucky had negotiated Clint out of a remote detonator, exploding arrows, and setting the model on fire (that last one may have been Clint’s frustration talking). When they settled on a plan they both liked, Clint pumped his arm in excitement, and it was so sweet and endearing that Bucky found he _definitely_ couldn’t wait.

“I want to kiss you,” he blurted out, pink painting his cheeks.

Clint set his jaw in heroic determination. “I accept that mission.”

They both fell to cackling laughter, and when they were done, Clint stood up. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”

Bucky felt giddy on the trip home, both of them trading shy glances. Clint walked Bucky to the door, and Bucky pulled him down by his t-shirt for a kiss. Clint’s lips were chapped, and he smelled like gunpowder and sweat. It was perfect.

Bucky held onto Clint’s shirt, keeping him close. “A thousand YA novels say I’m supposed to say goodbye at the door.”

“What do you want?” Clint said, voice low and gravelly.

“To make out on my couch.”

Clint snuck another kiss. “Me, too.”

——

They went on several dates over the next two months, always ending slow and languorous make-out sessions. Bucky appreciated that Clint wasn’t careful with him like some guys were, like he was porcelain that might break. Bucky wasn’t porcelain, he was made of metal, unbreakable, and ready to fuck Clint Barton.

“Babe,” Bucky said, pushing gently against Clint’s chest while they were pressed together on the couch. “Let’s go to bed.”

Clint’s lips were puffy and kiss-swollen, complementing the newest bruise he had collected. “Okay.” He snuck another kiss, now his signature move, and stood up. “See you tomorrow.”

“Babe,” Bucky drawled. “Let’s go to the _same_ bed.”

Clint looked momentarily confused, then his eyes widened and his face lit up. “Hell yeah, let’s do that.” He ran to the bedroom leaving clothing in his wake.

Bucky rushed to catch up. “Clint Barton if you start without me, I’ll never forgive you.”

“I’m just getting ready,” Clint yelled back.

Bucky heard a loud crash, and when he entered the room, Clint was on the floor tangled up in his pants from trying to take them off in a hurry. “Why do I love you?” Bucky said. “Doesn’t matter, I do.”

Clint stopped immediately. “You what?”

“Oh,” Bucky said. “Well, I know it’s fast, but—”

Clint crawled over, pants still caught around his ankles. “I do, too. Love you. I love you, Bucky.”

Bucky’s insides felt light and bubbly. “Of course we’d do it this way before we’re even boyfriends. It’s very us.”

Clint resumed wrestling his pants off. “I’ve been telling everyone we’re boyfriends for a month at least.”

“What?” Bucky pulled himself onto the bed and started divesting himself of his clothes. “You have to tell me first! And don’t take your underwear off.”

Clint’s hands froze where his thumbs had already slipped beneath the waistband.

“I want to do it,” Bucky said, his expression filling with heat.

Clint’s grinned cheekily. “Yes, sir.” He crawled into bed and kissed Bucky deeply.

They’d talk about what they’d like to do together, preferences, positions, and safety. Having sex without the full use of your legs posed certain logistical challenges, but Bucky was used to it and well-equipped. Clint had been red-faced through the whole thing, but, as a guidance counselor, Bucky had talked about sex in way more awkward situations.

“How do you want to do it?” Bucky said, against Clint’s lips.

“Wanna ride you.” Clint’s fingers found the hem of Bucky’s shirt and pulled it off. He ran his fingers up Bucky’s chest, pushing at the muscle of his pecs and running a thumb over his nipples. “So hot. Think you could bench press me?”

Bucky pushed his chest into Clint’s hands. “Another time. I’ve got something else on my mind.”

For all of Clint’s initial rush, when they came together, it was gentle, reverent even. Bucky hadn’t thought that word would apply to Clint Barton. But here they were, Clint’s hands on Bucky’s shoulders, looking like he would cry any minute.

“You okay?” Bucky said, stilling Clint’s hips.

Clint wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Sorry. Just thinking about how this might never have happened. Thanks for giving me a second chance.”

Bucky directed Clint’s hips in slow circles, and Clint leaned his head back, enjoying the movement. Bucky pressed his lips against Clint’s neck. “You’re worth all the second chances.”

Afterward, they lay in a messy heap, Clint not ready to let go and Bucky happy to indulge him.

——

Epilogue:

A seventh grader named Kate came running up to Bucky and Steve as career day was winding down.

“Mr. Barnes!” she yelled. “I know what I want to be when I group up!”

Bucky was thrilled to see her so excited. Kate had been unhappy and restless in her classes. He was afraid she might go looking for trouble if things didn’t change.

“Let me guess,” he said. “A lawyer? X-ray technician?” He paused. “A guidance counselor?”

Kate rolled her eyes and groaned theatrically. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

Bucky chuckled, knowing what she was going to say already. “All right, out with it.”

Kate’s grin was huge, “I’m gonna blow shit up.”

Bucky and Steve exchanged a quick look, both men had no doubt Clint had forgotten the no cussing in front of students rule.

Steve turned back to Kate and smiled, “Being a demolitions expert sounds like something you would enjoy. Why don’t you go tell your friends?”

Kate cheered and raced down the hall.

“Sorry about the cussing,” Bucky said.

Steve shrugged. “I don’t give a fuck.”

Bucky looked around quickly before both men started laughing.

“You afraid the principal’s going to catch you saying bad words with kids around?” Steve teased.  

“Shut up!” Bucky protested. “I can be a grown man and still afraid of Fury.”

“Your boy did good, Buck,” Steve told him, somewhat begrudgingly. “The kids loved his presentation.”

Bucky had to agree. After all his dangerous ideas were rejected, Clint built a ten-foot building with cardstock and cardboard and placed mentos at the weak spots. When his fuse piped Diet Coke to the mentos, the whole building collapsed into a dramatic, soggy, fizzy, mess. Not exactly true to what demolitions experts do, but since Clint’s backup idea had been to bring in sledgehammers and boards so the kids could break things, Bucky was pleased with the compromise.

Really, it had been Clint’s enthusiasm that sold it. He had gotten the kids involved by having them guess where the “explosives” should be placed, and he was just as giddy as the students when the building collapsed.

Bucky wheeled into the yard where Clint was still cleaning up after himself. After the presentation, Clint and Tony, a mechanical engineer and father of Peter, got into an ill-conceived diet coke and mentos duel that escalated before Fury could shut them down. Clint was still hosing off the walls of the building while Tony cleaned off the roof.

“Hey, Clint!” Bucky called, but Clint didn’t seem to hear. Bucky wheeled closer and put a hand on his shoulder. Clint started and spun, spraying Bucky in the face.

“Aw, hose, no,” Clint said. He dropped the hose and ran over to turn off the water.

Bucky wiped off his face and glanced down at his soaked shirt. Clint walked back, looking some mixture of guilty and embarrassed. Bucky wondered if sheepish was his baseline.

“I don’t know what it says about me that I think you’re cute when you look guilty,” Bucky told him.

“I think it means you’re going to have a hard time staying mad at me,” Clint said. Bucky had a feeling Clint was right.

“So now that you’ve won career day, I was wondering how you wanted to celebrate.”

Clint’s smile was huge. “I won career day!”

Tony, somehow able to eavesdrop from the roof yelled, “Cheater! It’s not fair to flirt with the judge!”

Clint dropped his voice, aiming for sexy, “We could go make out behind the bleachers.”

Bucky blushed hard, as his mind happily supplied the image. It was a fun fantasy, but there was no way he would get caught kissing someone at work. “I was thinking something more like dinner.”

“And then kisses? Clint said hopefully, and Bucky realized he was already in way too deep with this loveable train wreck.

“Maybe one or two,” Bucky conceded. “If you’re good.”  

   

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! I incorporated my favorite line from Brooklyn 99 in there and 5 points to Gryffindor if you find it. 
> 
> I'm on [Tumblr](https://tinybearswithjetpacks.tumblr.com/), although it confuses me.
> 
> Go compliment [Inflomora](https://inflomora-art.tumblr.com/) about her amazing art!
> 
>  
> 
> [Reblog link!](https://tinybearswithjetpacks.tumblr.com/post/185076425739/sheepish-is-my-baseline)


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